The Orange Lilies: A Morton Farrier novella (The Forensic Genealogist series) by Goodwin Nathan Dylan

Author:Goodwin, Nathan Dylan [Goodwin, Nathan Dylan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2014-11-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

24th December 2014, Cadgwith, Cornwall, England

The fire crackled noisily in the lounge, as the flames hungrily devoured great chunks of seasoned oak. Margaret, with a bowl of porridge resting on her plump stomach, sat in her armchair, close to the fire. Juliette was resting her head on Morton’s shoulder on the sofa opposite. Unblinking and unthinking, he was transfixed by the flames. He had suffered another bad night’s sleep and his restlessness had woken Juliette. The brief conversation yesterday with his Uncle Jim had replayed in his mind over and over again all night long, like a song stuck on repeat. The more he had thought about it, the more he had wondered if had imagined Uncle Jim’s sudden embarrassed discomfort, as he had tried to back-track from what he had said. Could the lie that he had mentioned Aunty Margaret carrying with her for her whole life simply be that she was his birth mother? If he trusted his instincts on the matter, as he so often needed to when carrying out his genealogical investigations, then that was not the lie to which his Uncle Jim had referred. Morton had had no further opportunity to speak privately with Jim, leaving the remark niggling at the front of his mind. What had made Morton even more suspicious was Uncle Jim’s definite change in demeanour following their conversation. He had sat in the restaurant yesterday afternoon barely uttering a single word and avoiding all eye contact with Morton. This morning Jim had scurried down to his fishing boat at some ungodly hour. No, Morton had not imagined it, Uncle Jim had said something that he had realised afterwards that he shouldn’t have—something that his Aunty Margaret had yet to tell him.

‘Come on, then,’ Margaret said jovially. ‘Where’s today’s research going to take us?’

Morton smiled. ‘Are you sure you’re not getting bored with all this?’ He felt a subtle but definite nod of Juliette’s head on his shoulder and inwardly smiled.

Margaret looked mortified. ‘No, no. I could do this all day. I just can’t believe how much there is on the internet nowadays. Amazing that you can do all this research on a computer. You must never leave your house when you’re working on a case!’

‘If only,’ Juliette murmured. ‘He’d get into less trouble.’

‘There’s usually more to it, thankfully,’ Morton said. ‘Libraries, archives, churchyards—that sort of thing. There’s probably more that I can find about Charles when I get home—the records for the Royal Sussex Regiment are all held at the West Sussex Record Office in Chichester. There are still a few things I can do from here, though, don’t worry.’

‘Glad to hear it, too!’ Margaret chuckled.

Morton stood up and headed over to his laptop and notepad, receiving a glare and groan from Juliette, who slumped into the space on the sofa which he had previously occupied.

Scribbled on his notepad were a few potential lines of enquiry that he wanted to follow up. One of the postcards from Leonard to Nellie had mentioned Charles Farrier’s will.

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